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Words have never been enough
To fit a story of love,
And what it makes you feel inside.
You think ecstasy is it,
But that barely scratches it,
Is it the rapture in your heart?
But that barely covers it,
And whatever brings euphoria
When it ushers in,
Or what bliss should all be about
When it rushes in,
Doesn’t even cut it.
And my rhapsodies of elation
Can’t even figure out this equation,
As my insides sing a song
Of exultation and exhilaration,
While this jubilation
Can’t be put into these letters
When they come out,
They don’t feel what I had felt
When I was scaling edges of your mouth,
Waiting for a question to shoot out,
An answer doesn’t do it justice.
When we say nothing
We are talking a lot,
And it’s not an awkward silence
That you break,
It is a cosmic run
Of pious emotions
That shouldn’t be broken.
What’s surreal is not mundane,
And we should be glad it isn’t,
For we are not here with a voice,
But on a star of our choice,
Closing in like stardust,
Finding us forever fusing
When you are refusing
To comply with our actions –
Some forces cannot be fought.
That’s why I often say,
Words can’t dare to portray,
What I am trying to convey,
And there’s no other way
To feed you my mind
If I were not my poems.

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